Until Next Time
by EmRosie
Summary: "Until next time, Potter" Malfoy drawled, a threat of a fight as much as it was a promise of what would follow... One-shot, during sixth year. After a fight with Malfoy, Harry seeks solace in his own thoughts, but finds solace in a very unexpected place indeed.. Drarry. Rated M for strong language in places.


Harry stalked down the fourth floor corridor, rage ringing in his ears. Why, after six years, a fight with Malfoy could still enrage him in this way he felt he honestly had no idea – but then his mind cast back to the image of Malfoy levitating Trevor, Neville's toad, just above beyond his reach, over the staircase brought the answer for his rage crystal clear once again. He never actually believed Malfoy would drop the toad – no, that wasn't his style and, most significantly, there would be evidence for punishment – but it was the way Malfoy seemed to feed on peoples fear, peoples desperation that made Harry feel queasy to the pit of his stomach. It almost seemed as if Malfoy knew when Harry was coming, as if he put these performances of power on just for him, but with that thought Harry shook his head. That couldn't be right, Harry just had a nose for finding trouble and really, Harry would bet his broomstick that there were countless encounters which Harry had not been a witness to.

Taking his final step up onto a long corridor, Harry finally paused to take in his surroundings. This was not, as he had thought, the fifth floor corridor where he usually came – he must have been that angry that he had been completely oblivious to one of Hogwarts moving staircases. He had, some time ago, found a small, disused cleaning cupboard whilst browsing the Marauders Map which provided a perfectly isolated place to calm his thoughts. Scanning the walls behind, he could see the entrance he needed – across the other side of the school, but the staircase which had brought him here appeared decidedly stuck in its new location. Sighing, he wondered what to do, longing for his place of solitude. He was sure Hermione knew where he went, but also knew better than to follow him in such a mood. Better to let him calm himself down, she knew, and if she knew that, then so did Ron. But then there was Ginny. Harry sighed to himself, running a hand through his tangled black hair. Truth be told, he had only searched for the place on the Marauders Mapwhen he had begun his relationship with her. It wasn't that he didn't like Ginny – bloody hell, no, she was great – gorgeous, funny, brave… But the initial lust Harry had convinced himself of did not shine through in reality. When he was in such a mood, the last thing he needed was her - admittedly, Ginny knew as well as Hermione that Harry should not be fussed at such a time, but she always wanted to be around him, watching over him in a mother-like way she could have only learnt from Mrs Weasley, as if she was waiting for him to crack. That was why Harry preferred to be alone.

Resigning himself to the fact the staircase was unlikely to shift anytime soon, Harry took the corridor he had been led to. He poked around to find only a few, old doors. It didn't look like the place was well used yet inwardly he cursed himself. If he had kept the Marauders Mapon him he could have checked for unwanted people – he had, one too many times, walked in on a couples passionate embrace which never did much to calm his ill-tempered mood. Finding the first door he came to open, he entered, blinking in the darkness it gave as the door swung shut behind him.

"This rooms already in use, leave, lovebirds." A cold voice drawled and instantly Harry's insides curled. The last voice he wanted to hear – Malfoy.

"Don't worry, I can't think of anything worse than being stuck in here with the likes of you" Harry replied, as equally cool, turning on his heel back toward the door. Sticking his hand out, he grabbed the handle and pulled – nothing. Yanking again, several times, gave him nothing more than a series of loud groans from the old iron handle.

"Merlin Potter, do you take classes in being a total idiot or does that just come naturally to you?" Malfoy drawled as his wand lit the only light in the room.

Adjusting his green eyes to the light, Harry saw they were in what appeared to be a disused quidditch store, with a few dog-eared quaffles and split brooms littering the floor.

"Alohomora" Malfoy tried, whipping his wand to the door to no avail.

"Alohomora" Harry repeated, despite Malfoy's lack of success, which earned a snort from the blonde.

"Despite what goes on in that over inflated head of yours Potter, you are no better wizard than I. It's broken, well done." He drawled sarcastically, throwing himself down to take a seat on an old chest of quidditch balls.

"Excuse me if I'd try anything to get away from you" Harry replied, trying the door with a determined arm once again, yet to no avail.

"That was precisely my intention Potter, but you appeared to have followed me to the one place I never have much trouble being alone, can't get enough, eh?" He smirked, throwing his long legs across to rest on top of a stack of broken brooms.

In response, Harry merely rattled the door handle again, resigning himself to his fate after a few more tries and slumping with his back against the wall, folding his legs out across the cool stone floor in front. The store room was that small, they caught the pile of brooms on which Malfoy had rested his feet and sent the lot scattering across the tiny floor.

"Brilliant, Potter, 'The Boy Who Lived', wizarding genius, locks himself in a cupboard then trashes the place. Smooth. If only they could see you like I can, for the bumbling half-blood idiot you are." Malfoy spat, giving his wand a wave to instead transfigure the now discarded brooms into a small, wooden chair on which to sit.

"What is it about you, Malfoy? Seriously, what is your problem?" Harry boomed, his earlier rage returning. "Is your own life so bloody miserable you must inflict it on everyone else?"

"You wouldn't know the first thing about my life, Potter." Malfoy spat, shooting a cold, grey stare across the room. "Now shut it or I'll make you. I could do with a nice cushion until the door decides to open again."

Jumping to his feet, in the mood he was in, Harry decided attack was the best form of defence and, besides, maybe he needed a good duel to get this rage out of his system. In seeing Harry rise to his feet, Draco had cast his wand above his head yet Harry was quicker. He muttered a freezing charm similar to _petrificus totalus_ which froze the opponent, but didn't cast them into a body bind. As Malfoy stood, perfectly rigid, Harry's eyes widened in horror. There, on Draco's forearm, exposed as he had lifted his wand and now perfectly frozen into view was one symbol Harry knew he would never forget.

The Dark Mark.

As Draco saw Harry's line of sight, his whole body seemed to tense even further if it were possible, the little colour he had already draining from his parchment pale cheeks. His eyes, the only thing untouched by Harry's freezing charm, were ablaze with an emotion Harry couldn't place. Anger? No, he'd seen Malfoy angry. Fear…? Pain…?

That was it, Malfoy was absolutely terrified. The realisation that Malfoy could have such an emotion, that Malfoy could be scared, caught Harry off guard and allowed Malfoy to break free of the charm. Instantly smoothing down his robe, although it couldn't remove the image now burnt to Harry's mind.

"Like I said, Potter, you don't know the first thing about my life" Malfoy muttered, but without his usual tone of contempt and self-assurance. He sounded… broken. He sounded scared. He sounded like a child.

This unnerved Harry even more than the look he had seen in Malfoy's eyes and before he even knew what he was saying, the words tumbled from his lips "Try me."

"What, and have you running back to your Gryffindor, do-gooder pals, The Golden Boy, catching another Death Eater? I don't think so" Malfoy spat, regaining some of his cool, calculated demeanour.

"Fine" Harry turned, needing to escape, the momentary sympathy he had felt for Malfoy fading as quickly as it had arrived. Once again he yanked the door with enough force to break from its hinges – this was too much, to be encased in a room with a Death Eater – with someone knew – Merlin, he had always known Malfoy was bad, breathing and feeding others misery but… Evil? Harry hadn't thought so. He had never thought Malfoy would do this.

Yet, once again, Harry found himself without escape. The door remained firmly shut. Boiling over with rage, Harry span on his heel, crossing the tiny cupboard in one large stride and pinning Malfoy against the wall, his face an inch from his.

"How _could_ you? Your evil. I always knew you were twisted, Malfoy. I always knew you were fucked up, but Merlin, I never thought.." Harry growled, spit flying from his lips with the venom of his words and landing on Malfoy's face.

"You don't have a clue. You don't know what he's capable of." Malfoy whimpered, once again losing his self-assured tone.

Malfoy's words did nothing to calm his rage, they only stoked the fire greater. "I think I do" Harry spat "He killed my parents. He killed my mother as she tried to protect me. He gave me this scar and a lifetime of shit to go with it. Last time I checked, both your parents were still perfectly fine, a happy little Death Eater family." Harry's tone was ice cold as the last word left his lips, his knuckles white with the force with which he had grabbed the front of Malfoy's robes.

"No. Not my mother. It was me or her. He said… He… He tortured her. Cruciatus curse. He was going to kill her. I couldn't let him mark her, I took it instead." The truth spilled in a rush, wild and tortured, like a bludger being released from its case. "He did it anyway. Marked her." With the last words, a single tear broke free from Malfoy's broken eyes, rolling in a perfect line down his cheek. The admission startled Harry and his grip on Malfoy's robes loosened. It had never occurred to him that Malfoy – that Malfoy's mother – may not want the life that his father had mapped out for them. That Malfoy – despite his cold, hard exterior may have these feelings.

"So I guess you're right, Potter. A happy little Death Eater family" although the words dripped from his tongue in a way that suggested the family was anything but happy. Taking the release Harry had offered, Malfoy's shoulders slumped yet he remained fixed in place against the wall, pinned there by the breadth of Harry's body against his. Emotions swirled in Harry's mind, making him feel foggy. Had Malfoy had a choice? Harry's parents had made his choice for him, they had made the ultimate sacrifice. Malfoy's mother… Harry wasn't sure… But his Malfoy's father had clearly also made Draco's choice for him. It was an angle Harry hadn't considered before, he had always been so clear on how his life had been mapped for him, he had never considered how Malfoy's life could be being mapped, similarly beyond his control yet in a completely different direction.

A final, uncomfortable thought hit Harry's stomach like a stone. His parents had made their choice based on love, he had been loved enough that they would lay their lives down – an unconditional, parental love. A love Malfoy had never been afforded. Didn't everyone deserve to be loved in that way? Malfoy lifted his eyes warily to meet Harry's and instantly Harry knew their thoughts were mirrored. Two lost boys, their lives ruled by the decisions of their parents, down two completely different paths. Suddenly, Harry was very aware of the proximity of his body against Malfoy's. Their bodies were pressed in almost complete contact and he could feel Malfoys heavy, emotion-laden breath against his lips. Without warning, Malfoy lurched forward. Harry squeezed his eyes closed, awaiting the punch he felt was imminent – he had gotten to close to Malfoy's raw emotions, emotions Harry knew instinctively Malfoy had never shared with anyone else, and he was about to pay the price. Yet that was not what happened. A pair of cold, hard lips pressed against Harrys, begging for the love they had never been afforded. Without registering the action, Harry found his lips moving back against Malfoy's and within no time at all he had closed the already minute gap between them, his body now flush against Malfoy's. Harry knew, he knew without asking why Malfoy had never revealed these emotions about his life before and it was for the same reason Harry had never revealed his. No one understood them, no one understood what it was like to have a path in life, already marked… But maybe they could understand each other.

The kiss seemed to continue for what seemed like an eternity and the once tight grip Harry had held on Malfoy's robes moved round to his shoulders, pushing him harder into the wall and harder into their embrace. Malfoy returned the gesture, a hand creeping up into Harry's tangled hair. After seconds, minutes, hours – Harry wasn't sure, but all too soon – their lips broke and both boys were panting with raw emotion.

"You're hot when your angry, you know that Potter" Malfoy smirked, regaining his cool.

"Is that why you piss me off so much?" Harry asked, a similar smirk almost touching his lips.

"Yes… and no" Malfoy admitted and although his smirk remained firmly in place his eyes betrayed him, once again relaying the emotions Malfoy was trying to conceal.

"No?"

"I guess… You're the only one I know, you know… Gets me." At this point, Malfoy's eyes left Harry's.

"I didn't" Harry replied, and with those words he felt Malfoy's body tense against his. "But I do now" he admitted in a breath, his eyes once again finding Malfoys and this time he was met with a smile – not a smirk, Harry had seen those before – but a smile. Harry returned it, sensing the relationship they held changing.

Before either could open their mouths again a loud click, followed by a long, drawn-out creak sounded across the small cupboard and the opening door hit Harry in the small of the back. Both boys held their breath – while they had been encased in this cupboard their emotions, their actions had been concealed, just for them and that had been ok. But now the door was open, they were transported back to their lives the way they were. As if in sync they sprang apart, only two steps backward saw Harry pressed against the opposite wall.

Taking a look out of the door into the dimly lit corridor, Malfoy first smoothed down his hair then the robe covering his forearm, concealing the secret Harry knew lay inside.

"I won't tell." Harry said, breaking the silence between them and answering Malfoy's unspoken question. Without words, Malfoy nodded, a brief smile once again touching his lips.

"Until next time, Potter" Malfoy drawled, a threat of a fight as much as it was a promise of what would follow and Harry knew that would always remain. They needed the adrenaline, the rush of the fight as much as they needed the release, understanding and solace they now knew they could find each other. Without another word, he swept from the room as Harry watched on, finding himself wishing next time would be sooner, rather than later.

Malfoy stalked the corridor with a similar thought on his mind, oblivious to a tall, silver-beareded wizard sinking into the shadows behind with a tell-tale twinkle gleaming through his half-moon spectacles….


End file.
